


everyone can master a grief but he that has it

by LiterallyThePresident



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Kepler is only honest with his feelings when Jacobi is unconscious, M/M, Shakespeare Quotations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 17:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17871590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallyThePresident/pseuds/LiterallyThePresident
Summary: “He depressed his finger on the detonator. He saw Kepler’s mouth open in what looked like a scream.Then everything was painfully loud and bright as the building erupted beneath him.”





	everyone can master a grief but he that has it

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted some Kepler quoting Shakespeare and ended up with this. What can I say ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I love hurting Jacobi

He was cornered, trapped between a rock and a hard place. Or more accurate, trapped between a shock baton and empty air. The rooftop was cold, especially at the very edge, and Jacobi trembled slightly in a way that he couldn’t blame entirely on the chill. The man before him, a rival soldier intent on bringing Goddard down, stood between him and the only way down. Well, the only safe way down. Jacobi cast his eyes towards the ground, hoping against hope he’d see his teammates. And after a moment, he did, and he relaxed immediately despite his situation.

Safe. Alana and Kepler were safe. A good distance from the building, far enough away that the explosion wouldn’t really harm them but close enough that he could just barely see their faces. The open fear on Alana’s and the stony blankness that meant Kepler was plotting and planning a mile a minute. But they were safe, and Jacobi was trapped on a rooftop on top of a metric fuckton of explosives, a detonator in one hand and an empty gun in the other. The man advanced slowly, knowing Jacobi was cornered and not understanding the danger they both were in, the lengths Jacobi would go to ensure Colonel Kepler’s missions were successful.

Fuck it. He’d always wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. He chucked the useless gun at the man, and it bounced harmlessly off his chest. He grinned mockingly, but Jacobi wasn’t looking at him anymore. His eyes found Kepler, and Kepler’s eyes were locked on him in turn. It figured that the moment he finally had his Colonel’s undivided attention, it was before he was about to die. He raised the detonator, and his adversary finally seemed to realize what was about to happen. Kepler and Alana did too, if the way their faces twisted in horror was any indication. Everyone lunged forward at once, and Jacobi found himself _smiling_ a lightess smile and then... and then...

He depressed his finger on the detonator. He saw Kepler’s mouth open in what looked like a scream.

Then everything was painfully loud and bright as the building erupted beneath him.

—-

Things were... fuzzy for a long while after that. He had brief flashes of hazy darkness, masked faces leaning over him, a red haze tinting Kepler’s strained and pale face. The soft sound of Alana crying, distant like she was at the end of a long tunnel. Kepler’s voice, barely intelligible and equally distant, murmuring in his ringing ear ‘ _Death_ _lies_ _on_ _her_ _like_ _an_ _untimely_ _frost_ , _Upon_ _the_ _sweetest_ _flower_ _of_ _all_ _the_ _field_ ’”

And then there was nothing but sweet oblivion for a while.

—-

Jacobi woke slowly, in increments. First came sounds, distant and muffled like he was underwater. Then sensations, mostly pain and an artificial lightness that spoke of a fuckton of drugs. He must have made a sound as he slowly awoke, because his throat finally made it’s burning soreness known. A warm pressure around his hand he hadn’t noticed before tightened, and a soft, familiar sound made him relax almost instantly. Alana. Alana was here, which meant he was okay.

“Daniel.” she gasped, sounding like she’d crawled through Hell, “Oh, god, Daniel!” and then she was clutching at his hand tight enough to hurt, pressing fervent kisses to it in a way that at least assured him that they were alone. He managed a weak smile, though the world remained completely black.

“No hug?” he tried to joke, but flinched at the sound of his own voice, bringing a fresh wave of pain to his entire body. It sounded like his vocal chords had been run over a cheese grater and then scrubbed with sandpaper. Alana gave a shaky laugh, though her own voice sounded almost as hoarse.

“The doctors said we shouldn’t touch you too much.” she said softly, “And... And you look bad, Daniel. Like...”

“Like I... urgh... survived an explo-“

“Don’t talk.” she interrupted him, sounding pained, “You need to save your strength, and your voice is one of the many things that needs time and rest to recover.” Jacobi sighed, but nodded.

“Damage?” he whispered, the beginnings of fear sparking in his chest as the world stayed pitch black no matter how he tried to blink against whatever weird fabric was covering his eyes, and heard Alana take a shaky breath.

“It was bad, Daniel.” she said, sounding _haunted_ , “You died four times, and one of those times was in the Colonel’s arms.” Jacobi took a sharp breath, but didn’t dare interrupt her, “The explosion fucked up your legs and burned your entire body really badly. Shrapnel got into your... everything, including your eyes, which is why you can’t see. You’re practically swimming in bandages and casts. And yeah, your eardrums are finally healed enough that you can hear me, but only because it’s been two and a half months. You... You’ll be stuck on bedrest for a long time still.” She squeezed his hand, and he realized his breath had been coming in short pants. He concentrated on not panicking when he realized he couldn’t feel his legs, squeezing her hand to ground himself. Two and a half months. _Two_ _and_ _a_ _half_ _months_ asleep on a hospital bed. Fucking Christ.

“Kepler?” he ground out, trying to keep his talking to a minimum but unable to use ASL with his hand trapped firmly in Alana’s grip.

“On a mission.” she stroked his hand tenderly with her thumb, and before he could be offended or hurt that he wasn’t here, she continued, “Cutter had to force him to leave your side after a month. Threatened some... pretty heavy consequences.” Jacobi couldn’t hold back a snort, though he regretted it when the action sent a fresh wave of pain through him.

“What could scare him?” he whispered, and Alana squeezed his hand.

“He...” she swallowed, “He told Kepler that if you distracted him so much, that if your condition rendered him unable to focus on his job, then... there was no need to... keep paying for your treatment.”

“...What?”

“He basically told Kepler that they’d withhold all medical assistance and let you die if Kepler didn’t get his head back in the game.” her voice rang with a quiet fury, “He implied that Kepler’s inability to focus on anything but you made you a... a liability.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” she echoed hollowly, “Fuck.”

“And it worked?” he asked, not fully believing it. But Alana wouldn’t lie to him. Especially not about Kepler.

“Stop talking.” she pressed her finger to his lips, “Save your voice.” he nodded, and she withdrew the finger with a loving pat on his face, “The doctors say you’ll almost definitely regain your sight, and you should recover within the year, but you’ll have some new scars.” he sighed dramatically, and she laughed before adding a slightly bitter, “You’ll almost definitely walk again, as long as the Colonel continues to perform admirably. You know a doctor tried to tell him that it was unlikely you’d survive. Kepler picked him up by the throat and shoved him against a wall, doing that thing where he leans in and whispers a threat in someone’s ear. I... didn’t hear what he said to him, but I’m pretty sure the doc shit his pants.”

Jacobi gave a wheezy laugh at that and lifted a shaky hand to tap his thumb against her wrist, their own personal signal for _what_ _happened_ _while_ _I_ _was_ _gone_ / _away_ / _unconscious_? She hesitated a moment before taking a shaky breath.

“Kepler dug you out of the rubble.” she said, voice soft with an odd quivering quality to it, “He spent a whole day just... digging. Relentlessly. Even when salvage teams had given up. He had that look on his face, you know? The one where he’s gonna finish his task no matter the cost and god help anyone who tries to stop him. A stupid rescue worker tried to make him stop, to tell him it was useless and that you were dead, and Kepler just shot him without a word and kept digging. No one tried to approach him after that. I was digging too, but he’s the one who found you in the end. I... Daniel, I can’t forget the sound he made when he finally uncovered you. The... The wild look on his face when he saw the state you were in.” He squeezed her hand, trying to get that quiver out of her voice. She squeezed back and didn’t let up, “We didn’t let go of you the entire frantic drive to the hospital. Even when you... when you died. H-He revived you, but... but god, Daniel, it was so close and I was so _terrified_ and he-I-I’ve never seen him so-“

“Alana-“

“No. Talking.” she growled, “Save your strength. Recover. Get back on your feet and _never_ put me through anything like that again, do you understand me?” He nodded, not daring to speak again, and she seemed satisfied by that. He gave her a wan smile, wishing he could see her face. The painkillers were making him sleepy, trying to pull him back under, though he tried to fight it. Alana seemed to notice, and she stroked his hair with a tenderness that only emerged when they were alone.

“Go to sleep, Daniel.” she murmured, “You won’t wake up alone.” He tried to respond, but a yawn came out instead. She giggled, and the sweet sound was the last thing he heard before he was under again. 

—-

“I. Am going. To kill you.” Kepler’s soft croon was what woke Jacobi up the next time. The world was still black, and the scent of Alana’s shampoo was gone. As awareness crept in, he realized that there was a hand lightly carding through his hair, the motions soothing and repetitive, “Maxwell says you woke up a week before I got back. Couldn’t even wait for me, hm? Of course you have to be contrary even when emerging from a coma, Jacobi.”

“...sir...?” The gentle hand stopped for a moment, and then shifted from his hair to his cheek, and then to his bandaged throat, tightening just enough to be a warning without injuring him further. Jacobi fell silent, knowing it was better to let Kepler say his piece than to try and say something witty right now. 

“Mister Jacobi.” Kepler’s voice was cool, not a hint of emotion in it, “Your idiotic little stunt has cost me quite a lot. Not only was I forced to suffer two months without my right hand man, making missions significantly less streamlined and significantly more unpleasant, but Mr. Cutter is now aware that I have a weakness for my team and is fully capable of exploiting that whenever he wants. He has also gleefully informed me that he’ll be taking your medical costs out of my paychecks as punishment for letting my performance slip, so I hope you’re happy.”

“No one’s making you keep me around.” he couldn’t help but rasp, wincing when he found that his voice hadn’t improved at all. Kepler’s hand squeezed almost imperceptibly, a silent command to shut up. Jacobi wisely obeyed, and Kepler continued like he hadn’t spoken.

“Do you have any idea what it was like to pull you from that wreckage?” he asked with deceptive softness, his hand going from threat to almost a caress, his thumb resting at the hollow of Jacobi’s throat, “Do you know what it _felt_ like, to haul your limp, unresponsive body out of a pile of rubble and feel a moment complete certainty that you were _gone_?” Jacobi didn’t answer, but it didn’t look like Kepler was looking for one, because he continued, “Because I do. And I must say, Mister Jacobi, I am not a fan.”

“I-“

“Shut up.” he said mildly, “If you speak again, I will leave this room.” Jacobi frowned and just barely refrained from whining, settling for sighing dramatically. He wasn’t certain, but he could swear that Kepler made a fond noise before clearing his throat, “It’s good to see you’re awake, however you’ll be unable to return to your duties until you regain the use of your legs. I am told it may be... quite a while. Until then, Maxwell and I are more than willing to princess carry you around.” Jacobi couldn’t stop the unhappy noise he made, and this time he wasn’t imagining Kepler’s laugh, “Oh, Mister Jacobi, we are not letting this one go. You are in a _lot_ of trouble.”

Jacobi weakly lifted his hand, flicking Kepler’s hand pathetically. Kepler chuckled, and his free hand found it’s way to Jacobi’s face, his thumb brushing just under his eye, where the bandages ended. Jacobi let out a slight breath, but didn’t move.

“I thought I had lost you.” Kepler said softly after a moment, so softly Jacobi wasn’t certain he’d heard correctly, “This will not happen again, am I clear?”

“The mission-“

“Am. I. Clear?” his voice was rough in a way Jacobi had never heard, edging on dangerous, and Jacobi quickly nodded, “Good. Now go back to sleep, Mister Jacobi. You start physical therapy in one week.” He withdrew his hands, and Jacobi was seized by a sudden fear. He didn’t want to be alone in an unfamiliar place, blind and crippled and utterly helpless. He made a sound and clumsily reached for Kepler’s retreating hands, uncaring of how childish or pathetic he seemed. If it came down to it, he could blame it on the drugs. To his surprise, Kepler stopped, letting himself be grabbed.

“Stay.” Jacobi whispered, ignoring the pain the movements brought, “S’dark.” Kepler exhaled slowly, like he was collecting himself. Jacobi felt him slowly sit back down in the bedside chair, making no move to free himself from his admittedly weak grasp. There was silence for several minutes, and Jacobi could feel Kepler’s eyes on him, staring at him with an intensity he could almost picture. Sleep tugged at him again, and Jacobi knew he wouldn’t be able to fight it for long. He tried anyway.

“Daniel...” Kepler’s voice was almost uncertain. And then he seemed to recover from his slight slip, pulling on his familiar joviality, “Have I ever told you about the time I drove a go-cart through a Costco?” Jacobi shook his head, and Kepler started regaling him with the tale. Jacobi let himself relax into that voice, though his grip on Kepler’s wrists didn’t loosen until he drifted back into sleep. Had he stayed awake a bit longer, he might have heard Kepler trail off as he realized Jacobi was asleep. He might have heard him shift from the chair, might have felt the bed dip as he leaned in closer to him, might have felt the reverent fingers trace his battered face. He might have felt the warm breath ghost over his ear, might have heard the soft, nearly silent whispers that fell from Warren Kepler’s lips.

“‘ _Hear_ _my_ _soul_ _speak_. _Of_ _the_ _very_ _instant_ _that_ _I_ _saw_ _you_ , _Did_ _my_ _heart_ _fly_ _to_ _your_ _service_ ’.” he might have heard Kepler breathe, “You will never leave me again. I won’t _allow_ it. You’re... You’re far too important now, you impossible man. And I curse you every day for it.”

Kepler left, then. Jacobi, oblivious, dreamed.


End file.
